


The View From Here

by parallelanprincess



Series: Sugar, We're Goin' Down [5]
Category: Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice, DCU, Justice League - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Bisexual Male Character, Character Study, F/M, Implied Sexual Content, Implied Sugar Daddy Bruce Wayne, M/M, Multi, Open Relationships, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-06
Updated: 2017-06-06
Packaged: 2018-11-09 21:30:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11113254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/parallelanprincess/pseuds/parallelanprincess
Summary: Clark has adjusted to his new relationship. Wayne Enterprises isn't too keen on welcoming Bruce back into the fold. And Cat just wants to get the latest scoop on Gotham's prodigal son.





	1. Chapter 1

Clark's good at keeping secrets. Growing up in a small farming town doesn't give you much of a choice. Whispering too loudly in the grocery aisle on Saturday could turn into the preacher giving an extra special sermon on Sunday morning. Gossip flies faster than a rooster at dawn in Smallville. Decent folk don't usually spread rumors but sometimes it gets a bit boring out in the fields and you need to make conversation to pass the time. Despite what Lois may think, Kansas style “ole timey wisdom” had its merits. When Diana sends him home with a fresh string of love bites, Clark makes sure to stop by the convenience store for some concealer. She'll pout when he sends her a selfie in the morning but that's a sacrifice he's willing to make. Bruce is less forgiving. Clark is grateful he invested in cushion for his chair at work because Bruce is determined to make sure he can't walk or sit straight after their frequent rolls in the hay.

His coworkers can sense there's been a change. Maybe it's his increased confidence.

He no longer hesitates to pitch ideas at the daily round tables. He actually managed to get into an argument with Perry and come out unscathed. When Lombard and Ron invite him out to whatever sports bar they haven't been banned from he readily accepts. Over a round of shots, Ron asks about the pep in his step and about the lovely person who put it there. The betting pool on Clark's sexuality is getting bigger every week, Ron doesn't want to assume. He also wants to buy a new set of golf clubs. Clark makes vague references to the convenience of dating apps and takes a shot. Lombard tries to get him drunk enough for more details but Pa Kent didn't raise no lightweight. Clark has to call a cab for both of them before he texts Bruce's chauffeur for a ride to Wayne Manor. The night is still young after all.

His drastic change in wardrobe definitely drew a lot of attention. The _Planet_ pays well but not to the extent that Clark can go around looking like he came out of an ad for _GQ_. Walmart brand button ups were replaced with Armani polo shirts that emphasized his muscular frame. His jeans have been retired in favor of dress pants. When prompted Clark makes jokes about maxing out his credit card and catching a few good sales at Macy's. In truth Diana loves dressing him up like a Ken doll. He doesn't have the heart to stop her from dragging him into yet another tailor's shop for an afternoon wardrobe consultation. Cat assumes he's finally started reading her fashion tips. She loudly suggests that things would be a lot better if everyone else started listening to her. He has no problem letting her take full credit for his transformation.

No matter how much he tries to deny and deflect, Lois still stares at his neck a bit too long and he's caught the Olsen twins whispering his name in the break room far more often than he'd like. Of course, no one asks questions directly. No, everyone decides to pursue Clark Kent's mysterious secrets as if they're busting up a crime ring. It's one of the few drawbacks of working at the Planet. Being nosy is practically part of the job description. Nothing would ever get done if they stayed to themselves and minded their own godforsaken business.

A good portion of his day is spent avoiding Lois. His inbox is full of requests for a private meeting. She texts him with dinner and lunch invitations every weeks. The sound of her heels stomping on the cheap carpet is enough to make Clark head for the hills. A few months ago this would have been a dream come true. The streetwise city girl chasing after the innocent son of a farmer. A whirlwind romance were Lois understood that he was more than a naive boy from the middle of nowhere. In another time, in another world it might have worked out between them. Now it's too little too late.

“Smallville!” Lois called as she cornered him outside of the men's room.

Clark assumed she'd been waiting for him to flush. He was surprised she didn't waltz right in. Privacy meant nothing to the _Daily Planet_ 's top reporter and Perry's personal favorite. Not that he's bitter. Or jealous. He had a threesome with a billionaire he doesn't need this crap.

“Lois. To what do I owe this pleasure? I'm guessing it doesn't have anything to do with the broken faucet,” Clark said. Those violet eyes were burning a hole into his very soul. She wasn't going to be pulling any punches.

“Faucet? No. This is about your latest string of stories. Last I checked, the society section was Grant's beat. You've gotten pretty popular with the local trust fund babies. Wouldn't have pegged you for the tuxedo type.”

He resists the urge to roll his eyes. He's seen Lois in action enough to know this tactic. Always throw in a subtle insult at the end to get the target agitated. Next step is to make them defend themselves so that they let something slip during their rant. It might work on corrupt politicians but Clark Kent is smarter than the average bear.

“We can't expect Cat to do everything around here. Between her advice column, the society pages, and that gossip website she swears no one knows about, Kit-Kat's got her hands full. And hey, I can't write filler stories about school bake sales forever. If I didn't know better I'd say somebody's a tiny bit jealous.”

Clark walks off before she can respond. Lois won't take that lying down and he can hear her shouting at his back. It's not over by any measure. Is it wrong that he's been using his partners' connections to get the latest scoop? Well, it's not illegal. Every good reporter has their sources. His just happened to be a lot better looking than most.

And he was sleeping with them.

These were a few of the many reasons he didn't want anyone to find out about Bruce and Diana. The whole three-way relationship with two of the most wealthy individuals in the tri-state area was bound to raise a few eyebrows. For some people he was living the dream. Others might see him as a spoiled gold digger taking a day job for fun. Clark Kent was not a sugar baby. He was a strong, independent man who liked his privacy. At least that's what he told himself whenever he woke up to Bruce spooning him and Diana drooling on his arm.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Clark you're a fucking sugar baby just accept this.


	2. Chapter 2

“May the record state that I hate Lex Luthor with every fiber of my being,” Bruce sighed. He walked into Diana's apartment with the air of a man coming back from the trenches. His shoulders slumped forward and he gripped his briefcase tightly. He'd loosen his tie on the drive over and wasted no time in removing his suit jacket. Bruce tossed the garment on the couch before collapsing on top of it. Diana gently ran a hand through his hair as he laid his head on her shoulder. Bruce welcomed the touch letting out a frustrated sigh as he struggled to relax.

Retaking his family's company was proving to be a Herculean task. The executive board was reluctant to give him any form of control over Wayne Enterprises. His reputation as a playboy finally came back to bite him in the ass. Stock prices plummeted after Bruce decided to return to the hellhole that was Gotham. Shareholders were concerned that his tendency for reckless and impulsive behavior might be a recipe for disaster. A solid decade of racy tabloid headlines may have gained him popularity with the younger generation of movers and shakers in Gotham, but the executive board made it clear that Bruce stood out in sharp contrast to the company's family friendly image. For the time being, Bruce was designated as nothing more than a well dressed prop for the PR team. He needed to prove that he could control himself before anyone gave him the opportunity to run Wayne Enterprises into the ground.

“I take it the meeting went poorly?” Diana asked.

“Luthor called me an errand boy. To my face. Ginger bastard needs to stay on his side of bay.”

Lex Luthor ad faced no opposition in his abrupt takeover of he family business following his father's suicide. Leonid Luzhkov had been one of the most ruthless businessmen on the East Coast and Lex was eager to fill those shoes. Less than a week after his father's funeral, Lex declared himself CEO, fired his entire staff, and set out to reinvent the moderately successful private investment firm Luzhkov Management into the technological juggernaut LexCorp.

“His arrogance will be his undoing. He's making a lot powerful enemies whether he knows it or not. Not to mention all those unpleasant rumors about what happened to his father,” Diana said.

Diana shifted to wrap an arm around Bruce. She felt a bit guilty about forcing him to come back. The adjustment was taking a toll on him physically and mentally. Having to conform to someone else's standards and playing the role of the dutiful son had never been Bruce's strong point. It was one of the reasons that she loved him. He was unwilling to be tamed. He took on the world according to his terms. Yet that fierce independence had been on the verge of morphing into something darker, more destructive. Keeping an eye on him was a lot easier when they weren't on opposite ends of the globe. She knew that Bruce could be great if he only faced his fears.

“I wonder how much of its true. Lex is a punk. A smart one with a fancy degree, but still a punk. I bet Clark could take him down with one punch. That would be make a great front page story. 'Asshole inventor knocked out by sexy paperboy: an exclusive look by Cat Grant.' Daily Planet might finally win a Pulitzer.”

“They already have one. Lois Lane won it for something about the mafia. Do you think Clark's home yet? A little TLC might be in order to get you feeling better.”

Clark was everything they never knew they wanted. That jawline of his could cut diamonds. Clark's gentle Midwestern accent reminded him of in the lush vineyards in Tuscany and the dry heat of Egypt on a summer's day. The baggy clothes the reporter usually wore didn't do his toned frame justice. Years of hard labor left Clark's skin sun kissed and his fingers calloused. Whenever he smiled Bruce got a good look at the small gap between his two front, a result of his parents sacrificing braces in favor of saving for his college education. He came from a world far, far away from corrupt government officials and ineffective police forces.

“I don't think that's wise. You know how quickly he gets worked up over things like this. He doesn't understand how the game is played. I can handle a snake like Luthor. All I need to do is convince Lucius I'm a changed man. Hopefully, Hell doesn't freeze over first.” Bruce leaned over until he was fully laying across Diana's lap, his dark locks resting on her thighs.

Diana thought back to her childhood in Greece where the stray cats roamed the ruins. They always wanted to be fed and petted but never let anyone get close enough. The felines were nocturnal predators uninterested in being domesticated even if meant a food and shelter. Her mother warned her that the cats were more vicious than they appeared. If Diana brought them into her home, let them lie with her in bed they would suck the life out of her. Hippolyta had been wrong about so many things.

“Fox is a reasonable man. You can't blame him for being overly cautious. Especially not after that stunt you pulled in Star City two years ago,” Diana said.

“First off, we agreed never to speak of that again. Secondly, it was Ollie's idea. Alfred cut me off for two whole weeks after that fiasco,” Bruce pouted.

They both knew Bruce had a weakness for Oliver Queen. The boarding school romance never fully fizzled out. Diana didn't blame him straying. Absence makes the heart go yonder and whatnot. Oliver felt that he earned the right to waltz in and out of Bruce's life when it was convenient. In his eyes, Diana did the same for the better part of two decades. All was fair in love and war, right? Open relationships were practically an open door policy according to Oliver. Diana constantly thanked the gods for the gift that was Clark. He understood their unique arrangement. Bruce was free to sleep with whomever he liked as long as he asked for permission. The person in question needed to agree to be discrete. When verbal agreements proved to easily tossed aside for fifteen minutes of fame Diana started drawing up Non Disclosure Agreements. Bruce predictably hit a dry spell after his one nights stands learned they couldn't brag about bedding the Prince of Gotham less. Tension mounted between them as Bruce began to feel caged and controlled following his return to Gotham.

Then came Clark bumbling into the museum opening like a calf in a cornfield. Young, sweet, and harmless. A safe choice for someone to keep Bruce company on lonely nights. Being able to share and borrow Clark at leisure furthered endeared the reporter to Diana. Clark promised to keep quiet about his weekend visits to Gotham. He'd gone so far as to propose swearing on a Bible. Bruce was her precious kitten and Clark was her loyal puppy. The two men made her happier than she thought possible. As she texted Clark she considered how whether she should buy the pair matching collars as an anniversary present.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know what always bothered me? How whenever Bruce comes back from his soul searching quest or whatever he can go "I'M CEO, BITCH" like no, no. Your ass been gone 10 years. Did you even go to college?? Where you been? Just cuz your name is on it don't we gonna let you run shit. So here's Bruce Wayne having to earn his position the hard way because sorry fam, but you gotta grow and learn to be your own man. Not a Batman. A real man.
> 
> Meanwhile, Leonid = Lionel in Russian basically. and Luzkhov is a legit Russian surname that sounded closest to Luthor. I always loved that line in BvS where Lex goes "My father grew up saluting dictators" and the strong implication he was abused as a child. So on the other hand we have power hungry LEx who may or may not have killed his father and done a lot of other heinous and illegal shit to get his position. I wanted that contrast between the two. Bruce has The Struggle and meanwhile Lex is twirling around in his office while Mercy pushes the chair. Ayeeee


	3. Chapter 3

Cat Grant was more than just a pretty face. She also had a sweet rack and an ass that wouldn't quit. Contrary to popular belief her assets were all natural, thank you very much. It wasn't her fault calories fled north and south of her waistline. Shopping for clothes was either a fun way to spend a weekend or trip through all seven layers of Hell. Real women had curves for goodness sake! Whoever decided that skinny jeans and crop tops were appropriate winter wear was seriously disturbed. A lifetime of failing to find clothes that fit her figure and makeup that suited her complexion caused the shrinking violet to bloom into a gorgeous rose. Fashion wasn't going to save itself. Cat Grant dedicated her life to showing the world the path to fashion in 500 words or less.

Since salon appointments could be awkward affairs it was only right that she provided her audience with something to past the time. No use beating yourself up over little flaws when there were so many other people who didn't have their life together. It was a noble cause. However there were naysayers that failed to comprehend her mission. Caring about your appearance was akin to pride, the worst of the seven deadly sins. Reporting about the mayor's harem of mistress was apparently not on the same level of importance as his alleged ties to the mafia. Because goodness forbid the voting public be presented with actual proof that the mayor can't be trusted. Cat loved Lois but she could be so condescending.

Lois was a classic career woman through and through. Work twice as hard as any man, keep your legs closed, your chin up, and own a wardrobe consisting of darks and neutral tones. Cat took a different approach. Make everyone think you're not aware of the glass ceiling and then shatter it when you send the good old boys to fetch you a drink. Being underestimated was perfect the long con. Lois was the _Planet_ 's prized writer and everyone was waiting for her to slip up. The bullpen could turn into a shark tank if you weren't careful. She'd offer Lois some advice on making nice with the others but Cat overheard her telling Perry that the “Ask the Cat” column was a waste of advertising space. Lois was never going to get married with that kind of attitude.

As Cat walked into the office, she look forward to another day of lukewarm coffee and endless typing. She blew a kiss to the Olsen twins as she passed them. Jimmy rolled his eyes and Jenny tried to hide her blush behind her phone. Jimmy was Lois' pet photographer who followed her like a dog. His selfies were works of art as he created his own custom filters. His Instagram account was rapidly approaching a million followers, Cat was hoping to interview him if she ran into a particularly slow news week. In another generation the boy might have gotten bullied back in high school for his over-sized tee shirts and baggy pants but geek culture became mainstream during his adolescence thus he was saved from most of the perils of high school. The Starfleet pin he wore with every polo shirt was both ironic and adorable. Jenny was a different creature entirely. The Olsen family should have moved West were she could have become one the best paparazza in Los Angeles. Whereas Jimmy preferred the quality of the image, Jenny favored the content. Jimmy protected his equipment as if it were his own child. Jenny braved rain, snow and hail if it meant getting an incriminating shot. She once waited in the bushes behind a post office for five hours just to get a picture of a mailman accused of using his delivery route as a method of drug distribution. That was dedication.

“Jenny dear, we simply must do lunch sometime. There's this wonderful bistro on Byrne Street that I know you'll love,” Cat said. She took the high pitched squeak as a 'yes'.

Cat settled into her cubicle with a sense of comfortable familiarity. Pictures of her friends and family were pinned to the walls. A photo of Jenny from last year's Christmas party was blocked from view by her desk cactus. Her Hello Kitty bobble head kept watch over her desktop organizer. Sticky notes hanging over her computer monitor reminder her who to email and when and why. The cubicle was her tiny bit of paradise.

The first thing she did was check her favorite gossip sites for any updates. Michael Carter had been arrested on a DUI overnight. Oh, the league was definitely going to suspend him, it was the third one since the season started. Lombard was probably going to be in bad mood then. Carter was his favorite football player. The Birds of Prey were going on tour, Rita Farr was finally divorcing her husband, Ollie Queen did something stupid again....Boring, boring. Cat switched over to her emails to see if any of her contacts dug up anything interesting over the weekend. Someone sent her a file folder simply marked “B. Wayne Pics!!”. She tried to remain calm. Sightings of Brucie were few and far between these days. He was shockingly good at keeping a low profile. Wayne Manor was so far on the outskirts of Gotham that no one could get within ten feet of him if he chose to stay locked up in his castle. The cease and desist orders Wane Enterprises issued whenever someone so much as mentioned him in an article were becoming legendary.

Cat took a deep breath. Her readers came first. She clicked open the folder. The images were obviously taken from a distance by someone with very shaky hands. They were set in a dimly lit restaurant and zoomed in as tightly as possible. Even with the darkness and the blur Cat recognized that profile anywhere. Brucie was sitting with two other people, a man and a woman. The woman looked vaguely familiar maybe a model or judging by how on point that eyeliner was. The other man. Didn't ring any bells. His back was to the camera and his face was obscured by the model's arms. Cat scrolled through the rest of the pictures. Most of them were focused on Bruce and while that was all well and good she wanted to know more about the mystery man. Whoever he was he sure had a nice back. Nice strong shoulders.

“Hey, Cat,” Clark said as he passed her on his way to his cubicle.

“Hi, Clark,” Cat replied without looking up.

“We still on for movie night on Thursday?”

“Yep.”

Cat was going to have to get Jenny's input on the photos. They were fascinating didn't meet the Planet's quality standards. At least she got them for free.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does Cat Grant is gay? 
> 
> I loved the chance to get into Cat's head. Also I head canon Cat in this verse as African-American because I can. She still has blonde hair CUZ ITS A WEAVE AND ITS THE SHIT I TELL YOU. and since Jenny and Jimmy Olsen both exist in the DCEU verse, I made them ginger twin photographers with vastly different methods and perspectives. Protect them. They are too pure.


End file.
